


Salve Regina

by wyrdo



Series: Overcome by Events [4]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Life in the Circle, Masked ball, Power Imbalance, Requited Unrequited Love, Satinalia, Satinalis Principus, life goes on - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrdo/pseuds/wyrdo
Summary: Under Meredith's controlling thumb, Satinalia still occurs, but even without her, Satinalia in the circle isn't exactly like the rest of the world.And people find a way to be happy, and to make trouble, everywhere.





	Salve Regina

**Kirkwall, 23-24 Firstfall, Satinalia; 9:36 Dragon**

  
Cullen hated Satinalia, It required a huge balance between releasing restrictions and vigilance.

Meredith had tried to curtail celebrations at the Gallows but had faced a revolt among her own ranks. She had to allow a few things.

There would be no switching of places, the mages would not be placed over the Templars at any point, however the masked ball, the naming, wedding and slaying of Satinalis Rex and Regina would go on. This year, the Gallows would not participate in the Satinalia parade, Mages would not be allowed to create or perform fireworks, and gifts would not be allowed in from outside. Masks either. Everybody would have to create their own masks and no enchantments could be embedded in them. Finally the festival would be two days rather than seven.

Finally, in order to avoid confusion, Templars must wear their dress armor, or the blade of mercy on their costumes, and save for the traditional dance between Rex and Regina, no mages would dance with any Templar.  That one was his, he was not going to allow any Templar to attempt to seduce a mage without their consent under his watch.  Or vice versa.

No alcohol would be provided for the ball and the city leadership and the noble class would not be invited. He'd already fielded a number of angry responses from the privileged of Kirkwall and death threats from Hawke.

On the other hand, Andraste's feet, bound on Winterday would still be unbound. Even Cullen couldn't believe she would have allowed them to participate in the Chantry side of the festival.

Perhaps in spite of the restrictions, the excitement in the Gallows was palpable. Mask making was supervised by Templars in the dining halls as each Mage made his or her own mask in full view of half a dozen Templars. Templars were forced to make their own, rather than buy them, but were not supervised.

Cullen's old mabari mask, made for him in happier times back at Kinloch was specifically disallowed as it had been made for him by a mage, regardless of whether she was the late Hero of Ferelden or not.

Meredith had nearly destroyed it, but finally she'd relented when four Ferelden Templars pointed out the value of such a relic should they ever need anything from the King of Ferelden, but he knew he would likely never see it again, locked in the vault as it was.

The woman was probably right, He found evidence of more apostasy and blood magic every day.

Cullen sighed as he scanned the group gathered at the tables of the dining hall putting finishing touches on their masks.

The group was nearly all female, most of the males having only put token effort in or, like Cullen, simply picked up a blank domino mask to wear.

Not everybody mailed it in, however. A few of the creations were well above even the most creative he had seen at Kinloch.

His eye was drawn to a group of children centered around a very familiar face.

B... Enchanter Hawke moved among them smiling and making suggestions here, helping to hold an addition down while the glue dried there.

The children alternated between questions about Satinalia in the outside world and questions about her mask.

In response to the first, she regaled them with stories of the parade when her sister had been brave enough to kiss the Satinalia Principus, a grumpy old veteran of the Ferelden Civil War; or the time she had forgot to put sugar in the plum pie she entered in the Satinalia Faire. The second, she demurred with a sly smile, reminding them that if she told them, they would be able to tell who she was, and it was traditional to make a contest of guessing the identity of the Senior Enchanters and ranking Knights.

"Will dey wear der helms?" a little girl asked, casting a wary look at Cullen who WAS actually wearing his helm. It made it harder for mages to tell at whom one was looking. 

Bethany looked thoughtfully over at him.

"That would be terribly unfair." Bethany said with a smile. "In their helms it's hard to even tell the boys from the girls, isn't it? But they will cover their heads, the ones who are not working, just as the Senior Enchanters will."

"Will Meredith be Satinalis Rex?" a boy asked her.

She shrugged. "It's possible, but it wouldn't be sporting. Knight Commander Meredith is in charge all year long. Last year it was their youngest knight, Lilane and she made an excellent Satinalis Rex. Her first decree was to order the off duty knights to give their pudding to the on duty knights."

The littler ones giggled, while the oder ones nodded. One new apprentice who came into her power at a later age made a scoffing sound. "In Lowtown they call it Satinalis Principus and give it to the village idiot. Last year they gave it to this mean old codger who was always stealing balls that went over his fence. He din't make ANY proclamations, nobody woulda listened."

Bethany made a moue of distaste, "In the Gallows it must be fair to both Mages and Templars. So we have two." Bethany said "And since we all have to live together, we don't try to point out each other's flaws."

Cullen himself was glad he wore his helm. For most Templars it hid where their eyes were focused, for him, it hid his shock. He'd been in circles since he was, what? 15? He'd never considered why it might be different in a circle, simply accepted that it was. He had never actually asked.

Senior Enchanter Hawke was leadership material; no, that wasn't it. She really belonged at the head of a large and loving family.

He tried not to imagine a mixed bag of tow and chestnut headed cherubs growing up thinking that mummy hung the moons.

But that was ridiculous, and unsafe. Ignoring the fact that that was how she had grown up, happy enough in her family unit. He shook his head as if it would shake the thought loose.

It reminded him she wasn't all porcelain doll skin hair, hips and...  _Maker's teeth, what is wrong with me?_

She really needed to stand up straight and not bend across the table like that.

With an effort, he tore his gaze from her magnificent ass...ets and found himself watching two young enchanters making googly eyes at each other under the mistletoe in the doorway while a dour senior enchanter crossed his arms and tapped his foot waiting for them to get out of his way.

  
\-----

Bethany stared at the candled wreath hanging in the center of her door.

"What the void?"

She looked left, then right looking for the jokester. In the Gallows, at least among the mages, Satinalis Regina was more of a popularity contest and Bethany didn't win those. Marian did, but not Bethany

Sure, she knew most everybody's name, but who didn't? Sure she spoke to them all about whatever interested them, but that was just manners, beaten into her by her mother. And her father back in Lothering.

Bethany Hawke had spent her life in hiding, remaining aloof. She wasn't anybody people liked. That had always been Marian. She half expected Marian and Isabella to come around the corner and explain the joke. Instead it was Senior Enchanter Campbell, who was still mostly a ginger, although there was more white in his hair than red.

His eyes passed from her to the wreath on her door and he smiled gaily. "Gaun Yersel'!" he said in his thick Starkhaven accent. She wasn't all that well versed in Stark, but this was one Sebastian had sometimes used in a congratulatory manner, so she smiled weakly at him.

It wasn't a joke.

It had to be a joke.

\-----

Cullen rubbed his eyes and pushed away from his desk. He had to dress for the party and he'd had just about enough reports on maleficar and passive aggressive, not to mention blatantly aggressive notes from a certain Serrah Hawke.

He physically collided with a group of giggling recruits in the hall and stopped to set them to rights, catching one young man who'd physically bounced off Cullen's armor and standing him back up.

"Run along now, it's time to get ready for dinner."

"Aye Ser," they said, suddenly quite sober. He heard them race away as soon as his back was turned.

He was nearly through the door before he saw the wreath of gilded laurel tacked to it.

 _Solved the problem of what recruits were doing in the officer's wing._ he thought to himself while swearing softly.

Why him? He was second in command for Pete's bloody sake, a heartbeat away from being in charge and some smart ass decided to make him Satinalis Rex. It was unfair to the young knights. Somebody was up to something.

He entertained the notion of moving it to the door of the youngest knight but most had already been back in their rooms for nearly an hour. He would not succeed. He really didn't have anything nice. Linen underarmor, cotton underarmor, sleeping slacks and wool street clothes. If he was invited to any affairs, he sent his lieutenants, or Meredith went instead. He reached for his dress uniform and put it on quickly.

Then he removed any sign of rank or identification, covered his head with a blue Rivaini Keffiyeh and pulled his blank white domino mask on.

Finally, he sighed and placed the wreath overtop. _Ridiculous_ Then with another sigh, he made his way to the great hall. He was un-surprised to see Thrask guarding the door.

As he reached for the handle, he saw Thrask wink at him. "You can thank me later, son."

Cullen looked at the man, trying to figure out what he was talking about, but the door was open, the room had quieted.  He had to enter.

He squared his shoulders and marched up the aisle toward the chairs decorated in colorful cloth and set up to resemble thrones.  When he reached the one on the left, he did a precise about face.  A grinning apprentice handed him a hazel twig decorated in silver, blue and white ribbons

 At some signal, Flitta, the harpsichordist began to play a march and the doors to the hall were flung wide.

A mage stood, bathed in candle light, her pale blue robe set off by a cloak of what appeared to be the fur of a white wolf.

She wore a sparkling white mask, reminiscent of a mabari and her hair was wrapped in a Seheran style turban made of sparkling silverite thread on which was perched the candled holly crown. 

She moved with the grace of a dancer, or a fighter and her head was held high.  She appeared a queen, or Andraste herself. She was beauty in motion walking toward the dais.

She bowed to him as she mounted the stairs and he bowed back. Then she turned. 

Cullen had once seen part of a ballet. Satinalis Regina moved like that. It was not precise, military like his, it was-it was shapely, flowing, hot. 

 A shaking knight recruit trust an olive branch festooned with green, gold and red ribbons at her.

She took the branch and patted the boy on the head with a gentle murmur and a chuck to the chin then turned back to the room.

Cullen held his arm up to the side, bent toward the front palm down.  Slowly and with the grace of a cat, she lifted her own arm and placed it on top.

"Regina" he said quietly

"Rex" she whispered.  Her voice was smooth and accented like his.

Together they bowed to the room and took their seats to the delight of the audience.

Cullen sighed.  Masks were so... Orlesian but that wasn't his only complaint.  From the perspective of a Templar, masks served to provide a veneer of anonymity that lead to certain... excesses on both sides. 

At Satinalia, though the masks were symbolic of a time when the followers of Andraste were scattered after her death.

Taking refuge from Imperial bounty hunters among the peasants and tribes.

This week of feasts represented those last days before their assembled armies rose up in Her name and finally, successfully threw off their chains and took the south.

It reminded him of the tales of King Maric and the Rebel Queen, his mother, remaining always just out of reach of the Orlesian usurper until finally defeating him.

He did not dispute the reason, just the practicality of allowing mages to hide their faces.

He was under no delusion that nobody recognized him, but Regina had uttered only one syllable.  She had obscured her hair with the turban and her figure with the belt but she was clearly Ferelden.  You'd never catch an Orlesion, a Marcher, Antivan, Navarran adorning himself with animal pelts and disguised as a Mabari

She was Ferelden and female.  That narrowed it down.

He knew who he hoped sat beside him, but Bethany Hawke wasn't the only female Ferelden at the Gallows.  Besides, he had never seen the younger Hawke move like that.  

Sadly, from beside her, he could not inspect her for clues to her identity.  He could only hope she said something to reveal herself.

Cullen looked at the hazel wand in his hand and wondered if it had the same meaning the the Free Marches as it did in Ferelden.  Among the Avvar hazel wands were used to signify duels.  Throughout Ferelden Hazel was still used to layout practice grounds and if his Orlesian Lieutenant could be believed, the entire fence and gate at the Grand Melee was of hazel.  Imported at great expense from the Ferelden and Anderfelian mountain ranges.

He looked over at the wand in Regina's hand.  Olive was universal.  Compromise, or peace, he'd yet to hear of a Thedan nation that did not associate the olive branch with one of those things.

He'd once heard that olive came out of Seheron as it had been before the Qunari invaded.  Certainly it was one of the  places with the most olive groves and olives.  Their oil and by-products remained the primary export of Seheron with degrading quality as one traveled south and east until there were so few in Ferelden that the ability to keep as many as four trees alive for five years until they were fruitful was worth one's weigh in gold.

When the crowd became restless, Cullen shook himself from his wool-gathering.  Cullen realised, after the dirty look he was getting from the cook that none could eat until the proclamations.

He had forgotten the proclamations.  Oh, Dear Marker, he had forgotten.  In his panic, his brain froze.

Mercifully, Regina heard his hiss of breath and looked at him. He focused on breathing, fought the violet haze that enveloped him.

Regina reached for his hand.  She rested her own hand atop his.  "Are you quite all right, ser... uh Rex."

The woman's hands weren't mage soft.  Her hands had done work.  Farming, war, he couldn't tell.  They were real.  No demon had calluses on its hands.  That was a start.

This was not a woman raised in the circle.  She had seen hardship.

He felt her hand encircle his wrist on the shared arm rest.  She casually pressed a finger to his pulse  point and he felt the gentlest pull on the veil. Her fingers channeled ice.

Icy fingers drew him out of his spell and he gasped, then breathed more evenly. A healer then... Could it be?

"I was..." he reached for the muscles of his neck but stopped when he remembered the hazel twig in his right hand. "unprepared to be Satinalis Rex.  It is... usually a child." He looked down at his boots. Focused on a scratch by the small toe. "I do not know what to proclaim."

"You take it too seriously, Knight-C...uh.. Rex.  It is all in fun.  Tell them they must all pick a rose and present it to the cook. It does not matter, so long as it turns the tables and makes them laugh, it matters not one whit."

Cullen chuckled warmly, reasonably certain to whom he spoke "I expect I should also keep in mind that it's not all about me."

She matched his chuckle with her own, breathy, soft and warm.  "You do listen." she said with a small shrug. "Wonders never cease."

If he did not already know who shared the petty throne with him, that touch of Hawke snark would have told him. He tried very hard not to think about where her breathy voice struck him.

He took a breath and stood.  "Shall we?"

He presented his arm again as before. She followed to her feet, her movements like water and gently placed her lower arm on his.  He couldn't help but think of the power and grace of water and of the two of them.  His power and her grace.

"We shall." she answered winking through her Mabari mask at him.

As B... Regina had promised, it had not been so bad. He'd stuck to the pudding track, decreeing that the senior Templars give theirs to the recruits and they'd clapped merrily enough, but she had stolen the show.  She first decreed that tomorrow's lessons would go on as normal.  A decree that brought unhappy looks to the apprentice mages until she'd smirked those ruby red lips and followed by announcing that the apprentices would teach the enchanters one non magical skill.

This brought down the house, and his decree was nearly forgotten.

Cullen was in awe of her.  She'd be the perfect woman if only she weren't a mage and it was becoming harder and harder to remember that she was actually a mage.

Dinner was served and just as Cullen's day started to catch up with him, dinner ended with pudding and their Satinalia Majesties were required to start off the dancing.

Cullen wasn't sure if, tired as he was, he could control himself if he had to hold her in a waltz.  Luckily the makeshift band of Templars and Mages chose to open with a minuet. He moved to step away after the patterns of the minuet but the band segued into a Ferelden Jig having guessed from Rex and Regina's accounts that both were Ferelden.

After the jig, the band slowed down again and an elf that could be none other than the First Enchanter stepped in while Cullen bowed out.  Regina did not lack for dance partners.  A sucessive string of male mages and even a few female enchanters and apprentices lined up for her hand.

Bethany Hawke was popular.  Clearly that was how she had been voted Regina.  He wondered why he had been voted Rex.  He was not the most popular Senior knight. Especially after he had managed to get Brandeis' knighthood revoked.

He stepped past the gaggle of young Knights and recruits vying for his attention because he simply did not see them.  What had caught his attention was an on-duty Templar holding an apprentice mage and a Templar recruit by their ears near the egg nog bowl.

More in his element, Cullen moved confidently in that direction. 

"Ser Lynette" he said, removing his Domino mask "What seems to be the problem?"

"Boys, please hand the Knight-Captain the contraband." The woman said sternly.

The young mage handed Cullen a leather pouch that felt empty but when he opened it his senses were assalied by a powerful skunky scent.  He closed the pouch and pocketed it.  

The recruit, however scowled and grumbled in tones that spoke of a Noble upbringing "I didn't do nothing." 

"Anything" Cullen corrected.

"Huh?"

"You make fun of the way I speak common, but at least I understand the double negative."

"Whatever, man."

"Knight-Captain" Lynette corrected, giving the boy a powerful shake

Cullen silently held out a hand and waited.

"C'mon Bernie" the mage started, moving toward his friend.

"Shut it, Lionel." The boy lifted a hand to backhand his friend and Cullen grasped it firmly.

"If you would rather be frisked, I can arrange it." Cullen growled at the boy. "You will need a cigarette afterward" he added, incensed enough to ignore his filters. The young recruit swallowed audibly and placed a small flask in Cullen's open hand.

Cullen felt a presence beside him and saw the costumed elf who had in fact turned out to be the First Enchanter. Without acknowledging the man, he opened the flask and sniffed.

It was empty, but it smelled of wood alcohol. "Maker's breath, boy" Cullen cursed "Were you trying to kill us all?"

He showed the open flask to the First Enchanter who sniffed it himself, his green eyes going even wider.  Then he looked from the boys to the punch bowls, one for mages, one for Templars

"Which?" Orsino demanded facing down the larger recruit.

"I don't gotta..." the boy started, but Lynette simply began lifting him by his ear.  When he was on his very tiptoes, she repeated Orsino's words. "Which bowl?"

The boy waved toward one of the punch bowls.  The one currently surrounded by young mages.

Cullen gasped and took a step toward it.

"Knight-Captain" Orsino said, gathering mana to himself.  "I can take care of it from here."

Cullen gulped, prepared a cleanse and focused his entire being on the elf. Then he nodded.

He rather expected flame or ice, but instead, the bowl simply slid to the edge of the table and off.

The children squealed and leapt away.

Half a dozen templars took a knee and teh whole room was poised on a precipice.

Cullen stood tall and spoke loudly.  "It is under control!" 

Nobody moved

_What on earth made them think he would make a good leader?_

"Return to the party, please, everyone." Came a quiet female voice beside him. "Please do not allow some youth spiking the punch bowl to end the dancing early."

"That isn't..." Cullen started but Satinalis Regina shushed him, whispering. "The First enchanter used magic to save," she sniffed the flask Cullen held "at least a dozen mages, possibly even Templars from blindness at the very least." she made a face at the recruit named Bernie "Potentially willfully caused by a Templar Recruit"

Cullen looked over at the boy who moved toward them until Lynette pulled harder on his ear.  He stopped moving but his face twisted with hate and anger. "Shut up you Ferelden Mage Whore!"

Cullen's vision went red and he stepped toward the Over-privileged little prig.  But Lynette took the expedient of shoving the mage toward Cullen and dragging the Templar recruit toward the door by his ear.

Cullen cringed and reminded himself not to piss off Lynette, but he caught the young mage by the shoulder.  Both man and boy stared at Ser Lynette as she mumbled threateningly at the recruit who continued to fight back, while hanging by his ear.

Contrary to her name Ser Lynette was a giant of a woman.  Gossip spoke of her being half Qunari but she had skin so dark the only color TO call it was black.  Her roots were clearly Rivaini, or Seheron, not Oxman.  Maybe her parents thought she'd fit in better in the south with an Orlesian name?  Regardless, the gawky recruit remained hanging by his ear, his toes barely dragging the floor.

"...Knight-Captain?" the First Enchanter leaned into his sight.

"Sorry, what?" Cullen said, his attention finally away from his giant of a Knight.

"I said," the First Enchanter responded, not rolling his massive green eyes by pure force of will. "What will you do with young Lionel?"

Cullen looked at the pimply young man he held by the shoulder.

"Did you know about this?" Cullen handed the flask to the boy who sniffed it as well "N-n-n-n-no." the boy said.  "I mean yes... I mean..."

"Relax." Bethany's gentle voice did what Cullen's had not.  "Just tell us what you know."

The boy started to sniffle, then a big fat tear slid down his cheek, but he took a deep breath and spoke. "Bernie... he said it was rum.  For the egg nog.  He said what Meredith didn't know wouldn't' hurt her... He was gonna spike the 'nog and we was gonna go on the roof and get high and... I thought he liked me, but he's like all them others."

"What do you  mean?" Cullen asked, confused.

"Templars." The boy spat.

Cullen stared at the lad.

"He was gonna... gonna..." The boy disolved into tears and fell into Bethany Hawke's arms.

But not before pointing to his forehead.

Cullen looked at teh First Enchaner who looked calmly back at him. The man looked unsurprised.  He looked like he thought the same thing.

"Then I am glad we caught him." Bethany said.  Her chocolate brown eyes never leaving Cullen's face as she cuddled the wailing lad

"Ahem, Indeed." Cullen said in an attempt to be helpful 'Buck up, son." he tried "he is well and truly caught."

Cullen watched as Lynette frog-marched Bernie out of the hall then snapped his eyes to Orsino.

"First Enchanter," Cullen said quietly wile Bethany held the weeping Lionel "Your lad was clearly unaware of young Bernie's plans and true feelings but he admitted to planning to consume mind altering substances with a Templar.  I may be able to keep him from the brand, but I doubt I can save him from punishment entirely."

The First Enchanter's already thinned lips pressed together to the point where they seemed not there at all.  "I will not allow you to make my people scapegoats."

"Your lad, your people, had no involvement in pouring poison into the egg nog. That boy is not an actor NOBODY, except maybe his co-conspirator is that good of an actor. I will speak for him, but "smoking some weed on the roof" with a Templar recruit, growing attached enough to behave.." Cullen waved toward the lad in Bethany's arms "like that is unwise in the very least and dangerous at worst.  I cannot imagine..."

"Can't you?" the older mage shot back, eyes narrowed at Cullen.

"... how badly it could have gone." Cullen finished. The mage's words filtering through.

Cullen turned away from the man's regard, blood draining from his face and arms.  The screams of a Templar being  systematically dismembered by his mage lover blocking all thought.

"I can," Cullen admitted "I have seen..." Cullen sighed.  He had to think of something else. Thistle in bloom... Dandilion seeds on the wind.  The mountains around Honneleath.  Bethany Hawke praying in the chantry.

Cullen hung his head.  He would never do what Bernard had done, but what made him think that she would not.

_What in the world was wrong with him?_

"Keep your boy safe, do not let this mistake be his last." Cullen said quietly drawing up to his full height.

"Get rid of that snake in the grass." Orsino said through clenched teeth.

Cullen nodded.  "i will do what I can."

\----

 

Cullen hadn't gotten through to Meredith, even with Lynette's utterly factual recount of everything young Bernard had called her.

On the other hand, he'd seen Meredith's face after her meeting with the young recruit and there was no definition of pleased that it matched.

He was huddled over his paperwork trying to find a balance between truth and leniency for young Lionel.  He made a sound and shoved the parchment away to catch sight of Hawke's leather clad figure against the wall of his office.

"What do you WANT, Hawke?"

"I WANT to see my sister.  You fuckers uninvited the gentry last night." Hawke's face was twisted in a scowl.

Cullen sighed.  He was tired of it all. "Rules are rules, Hawke."

"Meredith's rules arent' rules Knight-Captain." Hawke spat "They are paranoid ravings."

True to form, Hawke buried her dagger in the pile of parchment on his desk. Cullen stared at it.  The ivory handle was carved.  

 _Is that a naked woman? What is between her... o merciful Maker._ Cullen stood quickly, flushing to his toes and faced away from his desk.  Hawke smirked.

"Your sister is fine, Hawke." Cullen deadpanned "She is happy, she has many friends, they voted her Satinalis Regina. The children adore ..."

"They did what now?"

"Satinalis Regina. It's a circle thing, sort of a cross between harvest princess and Satinalis Principus.  In the circles it's more of a popularity contest."

"Yeah?" Hawk asked "She's popular?  They like her?"

"She is well liked among the mages."

"You know why?" Hawke asked casually, clearly a rhetorical question. "Cus she's a Hawke."

Cullen nodded, he continued to nod as Hawke continued to talk.  She was in a good mood, she might leave.

"...  And a good person.  Oh..." Hawke stopped, Cullen continued to nod idly, his mind on his work. "and a babe."

Before Cullen even realized she had stopped speaking he was against the wall with one dagger at his throat and another at his crotch.

_What the?_

"You touch her, you even think of touching her with your hateful hands and I'll have your balls for sweetmeats." Hawke growled at him.  Cullen tried to process what had just happened.  "You keep her safe, you  hear me, or I'll feed your liver to my dog."

"He won't eat it." Cullen responded, trying desperately to put the previous conversation together.   _Of all the things to say with a knife to your throat._ He thought. But he soldiered on.

"He'll kill me if you tell him to, but Mabari won't consume human flesh.  They'll starve first."

"How do you..." Hawke was shocked that he'd known.  He liked Mabari, He'd read about them. He was Ferelden.

"Fuck." she spat releasing him from his predicament because she'd found a new topic "I come all the way to Kirkwall and all the damn people are Ferelden."  She moved quickly away, sheathed a dagger and what appeared to be an eating knife and  yanked her naked lady dagger out of his paperwork, but the top parchment had a fairly good grip.

As she pulled it off she read the document

"Wow, this Bernard Montcrief is a piece of work." she said

Because it was all he needed to find out Hawke could read.  Her apostate father probably taught her.

"I hope you got rid of him." She continued.

"Hopefully he took care of that on his own.  Knight-Commander Meredith had a thundercloud over her head as she exited the interview." he answered trying to grab the parchment out of her hands but she was a rogue, she could dodge.

"What's this about 30 lashes for the other boy?" she asked, slapping the parchment on the table so she could focus her entire person on his face.  "You say he had no knowledge that this Bernard meant to poison anybody. 

"He had a pouch of weed." Cullen answered.  "In and of itself, not a punishable offence, but he intended to use it with a Templar recruit.  Corruption of Templars IS a punishable offence." 

Cullen didnt' mention that the last mage in collusion with a Templar got the brand. Over love letters.

"That's bullshit Rutherford!" she snapped "That's two kids making a bad decision."

"Knight-Captain" he snapped his correction back at her.

"Bite me."

"No.  I don't know where you've been." Cullen took a deep breath.  Void this woman could push his buttons

He idly wondered whether she'd leave him alone if he had her sister brought to the office but decided it would likely not make Hawke leave him alone, just give her leverage to get him to do it more often.

He switched back to the deadpan voice. "Your sister is fine, Hawke. No you may not see her, Hawke. It's time to leave Hawke.  You don't want to be escorted out of here, Hawke."

Hawke stared at him for a moment.  Her blue eyes icy and her angular features sharp and cold. It was hard to believe she shared blood and even features with such a  beauty as her sister.

Cullen resolved to celebrate every day that Hawke did not show up in his office, or accost him in the courtyard.

Having dismissed her, he simply ignored her existence.  He continued through his paperwork and finally the woman's tiny attention span left her nothing to do except go.

The day was quite long enough that he nearly missed the bells of None.  As the last one pealed, he looked up to see Thrask watching him.

"You do know that on the shortest day of the year, None and Vespers are closer together, right?"

Cullen regarded the other man, confused.  "And?" he asked.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Rex?"

"I take it I have you to thank for this farce?"

Thrask shrugged, a smile gracing his broad face.

"Why?" Cullen asked

"Because i knew who they meant to make Regina." Thrask responded

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cullen asked, beginning to get the picture but refusing to face it.

"Lie to yourself all you like, Ser" Thrask said quietly but without venom.  "But i have seen you watching her."

"She was decades an apostate." Cullen said lamely. "She bears watching. Her danger should be apparent even to you."

"You then," Thrask said drily "Are a tremendous fan of danger, Ser."

Cullen looked away and picked up his quill, twirling it in his fingers.  He wondered how many knew.  did Meredith?  Hawke? No, probably not but how many of his men laughed at him behind their hands.  Who else knew of his weakness and his shame?"

Unbidden the First Enchanter's words came back to him.  "Can you not?" He had been so focused on painful memories that perhaps he had not taken the mage's true meaning.  Did Orsino know? Did Bethany?

How would he face either of them.  ANY of them.

"Regardless you've a place to be.  Vespers will be here soon and your part will be ended." Thrask said.

A pregnant pause passed

"For good or Ill" Thrask said, then he saluted and turned toward the door.  "Ser."

Cullen bounced his head off his desk a couple of times, wondering idly if it made sense to stop at the chantry on his way to the chantry. Whether the Nevarran Circle needed a Knight-Captain.

Then he headed to his room to dress for the service.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, i know it's march. I STARTED working on this one right before the holidays, but didn't even finish it till Mid Feb. Then i had to transpose it from paper and here we are. March.
> 
> Stark(haven) Translations  
> Gaun Yersel' - a sign of encouragement, you can do it (Go on with yourself)  
> I fell in love with it from a youtube video where Gerard Butler translates Scottish Slang. Lovely, and [Pure Barry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c42dvgPIfSk)
> 
> Some items of interest (aka where did this all come from)  
> * The candled wreath is from the Swedish feast of Santa Lucia during which the eldest daughter cooks food for the family and sings a song at dawn of christmas day to wake the family. IIRC the Santa Lucia wreath is not made of holly but instead evergreen branches  
> * The gilded laurel crown is straight from Julius Caesar  
> * Hazel - this is a weird one, i have some vague memory form the year i spent consuming all things Viking that hazel was a very important wood in much the way Cullen describes it among the Avvar  
> * Olive branch - again, obvious if you play the game, but it is a symbol of compromise  
> * Silver, blue and white - still a huge part of the Christmas and Hannukah colors  
> * Red, green, and gold - much more yultidey now.  
> * Satinalia Parades, Slaves/Servants as Masters, the naming of Satinalis Principus and the binding of Andraste's feet (replace Andraste with...i think Neptune) are actually straight from what we know about Satinalia among the Romans)  
> None - In the practice of Christianity, canonical hours mark the divisions of the day in terms of periods of fixed prayer at regular intervals. None is the "mid-afternoon" prayer, placed half way between "midday" or solar noon and "dusk"  
> Vespers - one of the canonical hours (see None). Vespers is the 'evening' prayer typically held at dusk.  
> * The title now that i write of it, it is a statement on so many levels but it basically means hail queen and when i named the parts Rex and Regina i was stuck with the two latin phrases I had ever heard containing the word Regina, Salve Regina, from the hymn and Dei Gratia Regina (by the grace of god, queen). Who knew the Romans had so little to say about their queens. It makes some sense, I guess, since they had so few and because Latin mostly lives on because of Catholocism.


End file.
